Prepare for an emotional journey into the shadows of love with the release of my latest novel, "BLADES AND PETALS" This tale intertwines passion and danger, exploring the depths of desire where love blooms in the most unexpected places. Follow our f...
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2 years later Somewhere in Chennai ,2:25 am
ANAMIKA'S POV;
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The woman in her late forties, Mrs. khandelwal, is tied to the pole, her wrists bound tightly behind her. Her voice cracks as she begs for mercy, eyes darting to the man next to her—her husband. His body slumps, barely clinging to life, bound just as helplessly. The flames circle them in the vast, 25,000-square-foot hall, creating a suffocating heat, though they've yet to touch the skin.
"Please... leave me. I beg you... please!" Her voice trembles, echoing against the cold, dark walls, only the flickering glow of the fire casting ghostly shadows.
She screams again, louder this time, but the sound dies in her throat as she hears the approaching footsteps. A figure steps into the hall. She freezes, her blood running cold despite the oppressive heat that threatens to burn her alive. She never thought it would end like this—never thought that it will be HER who would lead them to this moment of horror.
"Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. khandelwal," a woman's voice cuts through the air like a blade.Anamika steps forward, her expression calm, indifferent. Heat means nothing to her now—she revels in the control.
Anamika's voice drips with condescension as she addresses the couple. "You shouldn't waste time. Just accept what you did. It won't spare you from death, but if you decline..." She smiles, almost sweetly. "Well, that just makes things more interesting, doesn't it?"
Mrs. khandelwal's eyes widen, her body shaking as she tries to form words, but the fear chokes her. Mr. khandelwal standing off to the side, breaks the silence, his voice a mix of desperation and a last-ditch attempt at negotiation.
"We can make five times more money if you join us. I'll get you more sponsors for your media team, more than you've ever dreamed of," he pleads, his voice faltering.
"You know, I still can't believe how Deera survived all this while," Anamika begins, her voice like a whip. "She never expected much from you, especially not after watching you pour all your attention on your son. Even Deera knew that your affection was never real—always something hollow, just for show. But still, even she didn't expect this hell she doesnt desrves any of this."
